


let’s die somewhere pretty

by lookoutlovers



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, all that usual sweet stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers/pseuds/lookoutlovers
Summary: lucas can’t sleep most nights. it has nothing to do with the video games and probably everything to do with the fact that his heart has this missing piece in it that he can never seem to fill.(or, a friends to lovers au)
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 27
Kudos: 239





	let’s die somewhere pretty

**Author's Note:**

> — a tumblr drabble that i extended a little. i hope u all enjoy❣️
> 
> title - take yourself home by troye sivan

If there is one thing that Lucas has got going for himself, it’s this raging case of insomnia that he can’t seem to shake.

Eliott says it’s because he spends too much time playing video games, that absorbing that sort of light at such a late hour is bad for him. He jokes, with this, see. After, he’ll ask, in his more serious tone, if Lucas is okay, if there is anything he can do to help — he’ll make herbal tea, run a hot bath, suggest they go for a walk.

It is these things, amongst many of the other endlessly lovely things that Eliott does, that unleashes this mayhem into Lucas’ chest. There’s this knot, tangled and messy, that aches when Lucas breathes, when he thinks of the ways in which he wants Eliott but can’t. Because there’s also this word, _love_ , and it’s a scary word, it’s a small word that somehow weighs heavier than most others. Love is an intricate thing, comes in many shapes and sizes. Lucas could love Eliott in the way that he should, the reasonable level of love you should have for your flatmate and best friend. Yet, Eliott does these things, and he keeps doing these things, and Lucas can’t help but love him in ways different, in ways that are more; he can’t help but be _in_ love with Eliott, furiously so.

But love can also be an untouchable thing — _unrequited_ , as they say. Because Eliott does these lovely things, yet he goes on dates with other people, and he says things like, _that’s what friends are for._

Lucas can’t sleep most nights. It has nothing to do with the video games and probably everything to do with the fact that his heart has this missing piece in it that he can never seem to fill.

It’s nearing midnight. The apartment is eerily still, although there is always this awful buzzing sound that slips into the hallway if the bathroom light is accidently left on. The floorboards unsettle under Lucas’ socked feet, a soft creak when he crosses the landing and stops outside Eliott’s bedroom. He knocks lightly, there’s a quiet, _yeah,_ the door inches open. Lucas steps in.

“Can’t sleep again?” Eliott asks, blinking up at Lucas from his bed. The room is dim, light from the hallway pours in until Lucas clicks the door shut behind him.

“Yeah,” Lucas breathes, hands twisting together.

Eliott shuffles to one side of the bed, “Come on, then,” he says, like he does most nights, like he does every night that Lucas comes in here, restlessly, a little pathetically. Because he knows it’s careless, stupid even, to allow himself to get lost in that kind of false hope — the pain of having Eliott like this (albeit on opposite ends of the bed, never touching) and knowing everything will vanish the next morning as though it never happened, like some kind of taunting dream. It’s a dangerous way to live.

But the bed is warm and familiar, and so Lucas lets himself, _indulges_. Eliott’s smell is everywhere, permanently etched into his sheets, Lucas melts into it, the warmth, the smell, the comfort of knowing that Eliott is right there.

“Are you okay?”

Eliott’s voice is soft in the darkness that consumes them. Lucas lies completely still on his back, a thing he does to keep his trembling heart at bay, out of fear that getting too close will cause the tsunami in his heart to spill over and make a mess everywhere.

He turns his head to find Eliott watching him. Broken rules always have consequences. Eliott’s eyes are too distracting, even when shadows purloin their light.

“I haven’t had a full eight hours of sleep in a week,” Lucas huffs, pulling the duvet closer to his chin, “Maybe that’s just college kicking my ass, or whatever. Or maybe there’s just something seriously wrong with me.”

“Lucas—” Eliott sighs, frowning, “—there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

Lucas hums dismissively. He doesn’t believe it, not really. Although, coming from Eliott he can’t help the way his cheeks warm. He hopes, furtively, that Eliott can’t see past the darkness. Hopes he can’t see how outrageously Lucas’ heart feels for him.

“I mean it, Lucas. You’re literally perfect. I don’t know how you can’t see that.”

A deep exhale slips into the room, nestles into the sheets around them. Lucas’ heart shudders, feels close to breaking point. His chest aches so much his ribs are weak with it, burned, bruised, _brittle_. It’s self inflicted, mostly, Lucas doesn’t have to be here, he doesn’t. 

He can’t help it.

He thinks, recklessly, that if he’s going to get his heart broken by this, by _Eliott_ , then he may as well enjoy these soft moments while they last.

“Yeah, well. Thank you,” Lucas murmurs. Eliott doesn’t say anything else for a while, neither does Lucas. You can’t, really, speak when the only words on your mind are ones like, _I love you._

Night time stretches. Lucas doesn’t sleep. Eliott stirs.

After a while he sits up. “Okay, come on.”

“What?” Lucas asks stupidly, bewildered by the abruptness. 

“Well, it’s no use just lying here if neither of us are going to sleep. We may as well go do something.”

He stands, his skin is pale in the soft moonlight that spills in from the cracks of the blinds. Lucas stands, too.

  
  
“It’s going _everywhere_ ,” Lucas huffs, trying to steal the whisk away from Eliott, who only nudges Lucas away with his elbow and turns to the side to block him out. “ _Eliott_ —” the laugh that escapes him when another cloud of flour tips over the edge of the bowl and onto the counter is unexpected, it’s disruptive like how his heart flutters around Eliott the way it does. The way it definitely shouldn’t. “—you’re making a mess.”

When Eliott had suggested they get up and do something, Lucas hadn’t expected this — baking, that is. He goes along with it, partly because he’s got nothing better to do, mostly because he’ll do anything that involves spending time with Eliott.

“I told you I know what I'm doing,” Eliott defends, Lucas looks at him incredulously. “Now pass me the eggs.” They stare at each other for a few moments, challenging. Lucas tries to decide whether letting Eliott destroy their kitchen any further is worth it. Although, the way he shrieks with excitement because he manages to crack the eggs into the bowl without getting any shell in there ends up being entirely worth it.

“You know,” Eliott murmurs after a while. He’s still stirring the mixture. Lucas hums, distracted by Eliott’s hands as they grip onto the bowl. “The good thing about this,” he nods down towards the cake batter, “is that once you get it to the perfect consistency, you can do this—”

It all happens far too quickly for Lucas, in his stupid lovesick daze, to be able to duck out of the way. Eliott dips a finger into the batter and it’s all over Lucas’ cheek before he can all but blink.

“Eliott!” he screeches.

“You have something there,” Eliott teases, his eyes scrunching up in amusement. Lucas thinks about tracing the lines there but then they disappear and Eliott is looking at him far too seriously for the situation that they’re in, standing here in their kitchen at one in the morning, baking a cake just because they can.

Eliott takes a step closer, close enough that lucas’ back hits the edge of the counter and he has nowhere else to go. And Eliott is watching him, his eyes intense in a way Lucas has never seen before, coruscating, captivating, _consuming_. Lucas’ breath gets caught in his throat. The kitchen is silent. All that can be heard this late at night is their leaky faucet, the dull buzzing sound of their fridge, the thumping of two hearts.

“Eliott.” This time it’s a whisper, a question, perhaps a plea.

Then there’s a thumb on lucas’ cheek, gentle but determined. Eliott hums nonchalantly, tilting his head as he swipes away the batter — only he doesn’t do a very good job of it, he leaves his thumb there, pressing into the skin of Lucas’ cheek and it _burns._

Their faces are close, now, Lucas can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, too consumed in a daze, a staggering melody of _Eliott Eliott Eliott._ Of trying not to scream, because now Eliott is cupping his cheeks with both hands, and he mumbles, “If I’m about to fuck everything up between us. Tell me now.”

Lucas swallows, _gulps_ , feels dizzy, he can’t speak, can’t _think_. Instead, he reaches out to fist his hands into eliott’s hoodie, pulls him closer, shakes his head. _Do it. Kiss me_.

He doesn’t have to say anything. Eliott kisses him. It’s fleeting at first, chaste. He blinks down at Lucas in question, a bit startled. Lucas’ breath shudders, then he’s pulling eliott down again, and their lips meet in a lazy drag, intense like a house fire; warm like that, too.

Eliott kisses Lucas and Lucas kisses him right back, like he’s always wanted to, the way he’s always been too afraid to. Their lips slot together, messy like the tangle in Lucas’ chest. But it begins to unravel, slowly, as Eliott tilts his head to kiss Lucas deeper, thoughts disappear, fingers press into skin, hearts pound.

Eliott feels warm all over, he tastes like cake batter and home. A sound escapes Lucas’ throat, lost in the slide of Eliott’s lips against his.

“ _Lucas_ ,” Eliott sighs when they separate for a breath. Foreheads press together, hands still cradle Lucas’ face. “You’re so beautiful.”

A thumb traces along his cheekbone. Lucas’ eyes flutter open, they meet Eliott’s instantly, an intense fusion of grey and blue and green, like a stormy sea — beautiful and catastrophic all at once.

It hits Lucas all at once, sudden, _hard_. That feeling, that word again, it consumes him, _devours him._

He inhales sharply. “ _Eli_ ,” he says, hands griping tightly onto Eliott’s sides. He feels strangely close to tears, _overwhelmed._ “Tell me, _please,_ if what I'm about to say is going to fuck everything up between us.”

At this Eliott smiles, slightly. Lucas does too.

Lucas continues. “But—” _I hope this is okay, I hope you feel the same, I think you do._ “—I love you. And I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”

Eliott’s smile widens, it’s soft still in the sparse light of the kitchen. It’s captivating. It makes Lucas feel breathless.

“ _God_ ,” Eliott noses into Lucas’ cheek, before tilting his head back to look at him properly, “you have no idea what that does to me, hearing that, kissing you and having you kiss me back. I’m so crazy about you, Lucas.”

“Yeah?”

It’s hard not to smile, to _blush,_ deep and obvious, when Eliott is this stunning.

Eliott nods. “I love you too.” Lucas pulls him into another kiss, and another, and another, and a thousand more.

Here, in their kitchen past midnight, lines blur, hours are hazy.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading 💞 forgive any mistakes, this was just a silly little thing. my tumblr is [@lumierelovers](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/)


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